Surrender
by southernbelle08
Summary: After Dumbledore's death, Remus has nothing left.  He has no more control, and that is all he can give to Tonks.  Don't worry it's not as depressing as it sounds! R


**A/N:** Don't be fooled—this piece may seem dark but it's actually really happy. At least I think so anyway. I think this is one of those stories that you either like or violently loathe. I seem to belabor trivial points to a ridiculous degree, but I think that the subtle differences are what make the story. Sigh. I act as if I know what I'm talking about. Just read it and form your own conclusions. And then review! I'd like to hear if you loved or hated it, or even if I was mistaken and you mildly (dis)like it. Enjoy!

It was the day after Dumbledore's death, a sunny day, neither the gentle kind that produces peace and contentment, nor the stark, glaring kind that makes even the most beautiful things appear harsh and unpleasant. This sunny day was a day whose sun was detached from all feeling—simply a light source in the most impartial, scientific sense.

In a way it seemed to reflect Remus's numbness. He didn't feel cold and deadened as he expected to feel, for he knew enough of death to be familiar with the accompanying isolation; he didn't even feel bitter. Instead he felt as if emotion had ceased to exist. Sleep had replaced the violent grief of the previous night with hollow listlessness.

Yes, listlessness was the word. All care, all spirit seemed to have been ripped out of his chest, leaving a gaping void that he knew could never quite be healed. Too much had happened in too short a time—losing his best friend, seeing children grow old before their time, living with the werewolves, watching himself hurt the woman whom he loved more than life itself, and now losing the man who had trusted him when no one else did, who was more compassionate than anyone he had ever known, who had given him a chance at life while the rest of the world condemned him as a lost cause... He had suffered so much grief that his soul seemed to respond by eliminating emotion altogether, preferring to feel nothing rather than to feel occasional happiness at the expense of occasional sorrow.

It was in this state of emptiness that Remus crossed the school grounds. Each step was slow and deliberate—he was not in a hurry, nor was he trying to delay. Gradually his feet brought him to the old beech tree under which she was sitting, memories about the tree flitting through his head but failing to create any feeling of nostalgia. She rose as he drew near and stood motionless as he stopped before her, her face as expressionless as his.

"Nymphadora."

Neither flinched at the lifeless, automated noise of his voice. The strange thing about this emptiness was that it made him completely unconscious of himself. As he looked into her eyes, he was not aware of not feeling; there was simply nothingness. The trauma of grief and loss and confusion and despair had left him incapable of processing any more feeling about her. He no longer had the power to logically determine what he wanted from her or for her. The intellectual tangle he had produced over scores of sleepless nights spent wondering if he had been right to end their relationship was all obliterated when the news of Dumbledore's death crashed over him, and there was no energy left for piecing back together how he felt. Any and every plan he had ever made spiraled wildly out of control, and he was left helpless, powerless, paralyzed, and empty.

"I give up."

And with that she cracked. Tonks threw herself at Remus and flung her arms around his neck, sobbing uncontrollably against his chest. As the bittersweet mixture of tears of joy and sorrow seeped through his robes and touched his skin, he felt as if he were an arm waking up from a deep sleep. It certainly wasn't a pleasant feeling: the memories of pain and loss stabbed at him like blood rushing back into the fingers; however, he was aware again, he could feel, and he could feel Tonks forgiving him with her tears.

He had given up; he had surrendered. He had finally acknowledged that he did not know what was in her best interest, and he had surrendered control of her life back to her. He knew there was nothing he could do to make up for what he had done, and she knew it too, yet she forgave him because she loved him.

Truly, this was the woman he would love for the rest of his life.


End file.
